


Breaking and Entering

by pentapus, tucuxi



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentapus/pseuds/pentapus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucuxi/pseuds/tucuxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi notices an intruder in Iruka's apartment, and finds rather more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Entering

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 2 of pentapus's [Treehouse reversebang](http://pentapus.livejournal.com/313714.html). 
> 
> I love the picture pentapus drew, and it was so much fun to find the story behind her picture!

 

 

\---- ----

Kakashi glanced up as he passed Iruka’s apartment block and blinked. He strolled over to the far side of the street and leaned against a fence. After a moment, he looked up again, holding up his book to disguise the direction of his gaze. He’d been right; there was a light on in Iruka’s apartment.

Kakashi had just come from the mission desk, where Iruka was busy making battle-hardened jounin feel like pre-genin again on account of their poorly written reports. It was only mid-afternoon: there was no reason for a light to be on in Iruka’s windows.

Probably it was none of Kakashi’s business if Iruka left a light on when he went out, but it didn’t seem like him, somehow. Kakashi watched, skimming the well-read chapter he’d opened to at random. After a minute or two, he saw something move in the window.

 _Gotcha_ , Kakashi thought. He walked around the corner, out of sight from the apartment’s windows, and down a back alley that was usually home to stray cats and some of Konoha’s more ambitious vermin. There was a gap in the fence around the paltry yard behind the apartment building, and Kakashi slipped through. It wasn’t exactly polite to walk up the side of a building to get into an upper floor apartment, but so long as you weren’t on a main street, most people overlooked it. Kakashi dashed silently up the side of the building and landed in a crouch on the roof. There was a balcony just over Iruka’s living room, and he eased down onto it carefully. This close, Kakashi could tell: there was someone in Iruka’s apartment, and the footfalls were all wrong for it to be Iruka. Kakashi crouched just out of sight from the street and listened intently. Whoever it was was clearly trying to be quiet; Kakashi had to strain to hear the person opening doors and padding around the apartment.

It could be that Iruka had a house-guest, but Kakashi thought Iruka would probably have mentioned that. In any case, a guest wouldn’t have cursed low under his breath when a door squeaked. Kakashi crept on his stomach to the edge of the balcony and lowered a mirror to see down the side of the building. The window was mostly closed, but unlocked. Kakashi waited until he heard the person move away from that side of the room, and then swung down over the railing, unlocking the window and slipping inside in a single, smooth movement.

“What the —“ the person wore no hitae-ate, but his reflexes were too good to be purely civilian. And then he flung himself at Kakashi in a blur of wheeling limbs.

Kakashi ducked back and to the side, and caught the intruder with a kick to the midsection, which he — no, Kakashi amended, _she_ — managed to mostly dodge, taking little enough of the blow that it simply knocked her back instead of knocking the wind out of her.

“What are you doing here?” Kakashi asked.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she countered. “You don’t live here.” _Interesting that she knows that_ , Kakashi thought. _She’s done some research, or been given some intel._

“No,” he agreed, “I don’t.” He paused, weighing words. “Neither do you,” he pointed out. She grimaced and glanced behind him at the window. Now that he had a chance to look at her, he revised his estimate of her age down. Going by her face, she might not be out of her teens yet. Her long, lanky build didn’t really betray her age.

“Oh no,” he said. “You’re not getting out of here without answering my question.”

“Yeah?” she asked, and tossed a handful of white powder into the air. It hung there for a moment, as if gravity had ceased to exist, before the slight breeze from the window carried it around and past Kakashi.

 _Poison_ , he thought, and made a face. _Contact poison, probably_.

She feinted forwards and then darted for the apartment’s door. Kakashi had to duck through the rest of the powder to catch her, but didn’t breathe while he was within it. It made him blink his eye, which started tearing up. Kakashi still got to the door before her.

 _Probably a little above chuunin rank_ , Kakashi catalogued _, probably primarily taijutsu-type training, or ninjutsu that need more space than this._ Iruka’s apartment wasn’t the smallest Kakashi had ever seen, but it wasn’t large, and Kakashi knew hundreds of jutsu that wouldn’t work in a space this confined, or wouldn’t work indoors. Of course, he also knew hundreds that would. She ducked back into the living room as his hands started moving, and glanced around frantically.

Kakashi kept her in sight, and released a carefully controlled _katon_ , which made the powdery air currents flash and then settle to the ground as tiny flakes of ash. He felt his mask cling less heavily to his face as a tiny lick of flame crawled up it after the flammable powder. He risked passing a hand along the exposed quarter of his face, allowing the material of his glove to pick up what little powder hadn’t disappeared in the flame. He didn’t bother to remove his hitae-ate.

“So,” he said, taking a slow step towards her, “what are you doing here?” She glanced at the closet, whose doors were partially opened. A quick glance reminded him of the condition of the rest of the apartment: papers out of place, drawers half-open. “And what are you looking for?” She flinched.

“What makes you think I’m looking for something?” Her voice held equal parts bluff and bravado. _She needs to learn to lie better_ , Kakashi thought _, and she probably thought she’d never get caught like this._ He sighed, and started on a basic binding jutsu distantly related to the Nara shadow jutsu. She spun away from where she’d been standing, and released a rain of shuriken as she moved, ducking into a crouch and diving toward the doorway. Kakashi dodged the shuriken and caught her ankle as she tried to roll up to her feet; the sudden tug unbalanced her, and she flailed madly in the doorway, knocking over a small table and the papers that had been on top of it.

Kakashi let go as she stabbed at his hand with a kunai, but blocked her from leaving the room.

“Damn,” she hissed, almost to herself. Then her hands moved to start forming seals, and Kakashi recognized one of the wind jutsu he’d picked up in Stone a decade or so ago. Instead of mirroring her movement, he started the sequence for another fire jutsu. He could tell when she realized what he was doing, because her hands faltered. _Air strengthens fire_ , he thought, allowing himself to quirk a smile behind his mask. She finished the jutsu anyway, sending a small and wobbly cyclone rushing towards him. But it had been weakened by her moment of distraction. It still pulled a scroll off the wall and scattered the fallen papers even more. When Kakashi’s _katon_ hit it, it became a small firestorm, which he destabilized by tossing the water from a vase over it. She stared at him.

“Who _are_ you?” she asked. She glanced around, between window and door, as if considering making her escape through the crowded streets. “Nobody ever comes into the apartment block at this time of day.” Kakashi just shrugged.

“Hm,” he said. “Are you going to come peaceably?”

“No!” She sounded offended. _Oh well_ , he thought, _it was worth a try._ This time she ran up and along the wall, and shoved over a bookcase between him and her. If he’d been much slower, he might have been trapped beneath it for long enough for her to escape. As it was, he jumped out of the way, hands flickering through a well-known sequence of seals. A lightning clone popped into existence just in front of her, and she squeaked in what might be fright. The clone herded her back toward Kakashi, and she looked back and forth between the two of them wildly.

Kakashi snagged her on her break toward the window and watched as his clone bound her with chakra wire, taking particular care with her hands and removing all visible pouches and weapons. When Kakashi had set her on her knees in the middle of the room, he allowed the clone to dissipate in a flurry of electricity. Her eyes widened and even though she squared her shoulders and glared at him, her fear was visible.

“What were you looking for?” Kakashi looked around at the room, trying to catalog its contents despite the mess, to see if anything obvious was missing.

“Nothing.” Kakashi gave her an incredulous look. She flushed, but shook her head.

“What’s your name?” Kakashi asked.

“Terumi Mei.” She squared her shoulders and glared at him.

“Try again,” Kakashi advised. “You’re not good enough to be the Mizukage.” She flushed again, this time in anger.

“How would you know?” Her voice almost didn’t shake. Kakashi just raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not telling you anything.” She sounded nervous, but very determined. Kakashi sighed.

He had just begun to lift his hitae-ate when a noise from the window alerted him to someone’s presence. There were two members of the Konoha police clinging to the facade, one on each side of the window. They took in the scene before them with expressions that hovered somewhere between horror and admiration.

“Uh —“ one of them said, “may we come in, Hatake-san?” Kakashi nodded, and glanced at his captive as her eyebrows climbed for her hairline. The two policemen hopped in, one male, one female, and the policewoman pulled a scroll from one pocket.

“We’re going to have to ask you both some questions,” the other one said. He sounded almost apologetic. Kakashi nodded.

“Get someone from T&I over here,” he said, “she’s shinobi-trained, about chuunin rank, maybe a little more. She won’t tell you the truth without —” he paused, and glanced at her, “— some pressure.” Her expression went from surprised to blank. Then something seemed to occur to her.

“You’re the Copy Nin!” she accused, and then, a beat later, “why didn’t you copy my jutsu?” Kakashi shrugged, and pulled out his book, leaning back against the wall, still between her and the door, as the police were between her and the window. “Wait,” she said, looking from one policeman to the other. “I just fought the _Copy Nin_?” She sat up a little straighter. “You were supposed to be better than that,” she said, as if she thought it was an insult.

“Try again, kid,” the woman said, not unkindly. “I’ve seen him come back from walking his dogs looking worse than this. If you’d been a threat, he’d have —“ Kakashi shook his head slightly at her, and she paused. “Well, you’d know it for sure.” She looked down for a moment, and then looked at the captive.

“You could answer our questions now,” she suggested. “It’ll be a lot less unpleasant.” _She’s probably got a kid about this age_ , Kakashi thought. That kind of display of sympathy wasn’t often the right tack, and it didn’t seem to work here: the intruder just glared in response. The policeman turned away and summoned a small bird, which he gave a scrap of paper and launched out the window as a messenger.

“She hasn’t got the sense to talk now,” Kakashi observed, and watched the girl pale slightly and square her shoulders again. Whoever she was, she wasn’t a coward. Kakashi wondered why she was here in Iruka’s apartment, instead of wherever she belonged. There was a moment of silence, and then the policeman seemed to notice the scroll in his partner’s hands.

“Um.” He paused, and then continued, “we’re going to have to fill out an incident report. Could you tell me why you’re here?” Kakashi looked at him for a moment. “Well,” the man said defensively, “it’s not your apartment, is it?” Kakashi shrugged noncommittally.

“I saw lights on as I was walking by. The occupant is working, so the movement I noticed couldn’t have been him. I slipped upstairs and found her rummaging around looking for something.”

“All right,” the man said, as his partner took notes with impressive speed. “And about what time was that?” Kakashi looked at him, incredulous. Was the man really going to go through the whole policy-regulated list of questions?

“All right,” the policeman said, marking something down, and then went on with his questions with what had to be intentionally-oblivious bullheadedness. “What jutsu were used during the altercation?” Kakashi told him, and gave the approximate time at which they’d used each jutsu. The rest of the questions were tedious bureaucratic nonsense. Who was liable for the damages, did the occupant know about the disturbance yet, could he estimate the value of the damages to the apartment? Kakashi answered the important questions and was enjoying soft-shoeing around the ones he didn’t want to answer when there was a knock on the door. T&I let themselves in a moment later, which meant Kakashi needed to have words with Iruka again about his locks and wards: it shouldn’t be _that_ easy to get in.

There were a few moments of jurisdictional hassle, which Kakashi largely ignored.

“Thank you,” Kakashi said, as the last person from T&I lingered. “Send someone over with her file, once you know anything useful.”

The woman — someone he’d seen eating lunch with Anko more than once — looked at him for a moment, probably considering whether to remind Kakashi that doing so was very much against regulations. Then she shrugged, and nodded assent. Kakashi smiled brightly, and showed her to the door. He locked the door firmly, closed the window, and then let himself sag back against the wall. The contact poison hadn’t had long enough to knock him out, but it was definitely slowing him down. He’d need to flush it out of his system: if he didn’t, and it was a progressive poison, he’d probably fall asleep within the half-hour. Thankfully the ash didn’t seem to have any of the properties the powder had; he’d only been guessing that it would ignite.

Kakashi took off his gloves and rinsed them off in Iruka’s sink. He paused for a moment, then pulled the shades and ducked his head under the tap, too. He pulled off the hitae-ate belatedly, and shook his head like one of his dogs, shedding drops of milky water. He cursed, grabbed one of Iruka’s dishcloths and hastily dried his hair before he splattered any more of the kitchen. It took another two duckings to get his hair to run clear, and his hitae-ate and gloves were clearly the worse for wear, having been singed and then thoroughly doused. He left them in the dishpan to dry, and helped himself to a small towel from Iruka’s bathroom to dry his hair more fully. His mask dripped down the neck of his shirt, and Kakashi swore and took off his vest and rinsed the shirt out in the sink before wringing it out and putting it and the vest back on. _All right_ , Kakashi thought, _it shouldn’t get much worse from here._ He yawned, and put the kettle on. The last time he’d been here Iruka had mentioned a ridiculously strong black tea he drank when he was grading. The cabinets were only haphazardly organized, but Kakashi was able to find it without too much trouble. Maybe the caffeine would counterract the sedative.

Once the teapot was ready to steep, Kakashi went back to the doorway of Iruka’s living room and looked around with some trepidation.

The living room was an utter disaster. There were papers all over the floor, frames crooked on the walls or on the floor, and the bookcase was going to take forever to straighten up. Kakashi walked over to look at the vase he’d emptied onto the little firestorm: it wasn’t cracked. Nothing seemed to be broken. He glanced at the wall behind the bookcase, where the intruder had pushed too hard getting the leverage to knock over the bookcase and amended his first appraisal of the damages. Nothing that belonged to Iruka seemed to be broken. Landlords in this part of town tended to be pretty low-key about minor property damage, so hopefully it would just be a question of calling in workmen to replace that section of the wall. Kakashi stood in the middle of the chaos he’d helped cause, and felt slightly guilty for his part in making it. It was a relief when the kettle whistled.

Kakashi drank a glass of water while the tea steeped, and then took it back into the living room. There was nowhere to sit that wasn’t either covered in papers or lightly dusted with ash, and Kakashi didn’t particularly want to stay in the room. He drank another glass of water and poured himself a cup of tea, which he took up to the balcony above Iruka’s apartment. He settled into a crouch and pulled out his book, picking up easily where he’d stopped earlier. He’d already read it, but it was still enjoyable to re-read.

The attack, when it came, gave almost no warning. Kakashi had an instant’s notice as a breeze stirred the steam rising from the teacup in his hand. He threw himself sideways, dropping his cup and book, and came up to his feet in an instant, facing a heavy-set man whose jump had flattened part of the railing around the balcony and cracked the edge of the building’s roof. _Great_ , Kakashi thought, _more property damage._ Then the man rushed him.

This person was better trained, and Kakashi only dodged him by a hairsbreadth. _Another taijutsu user_ , Kakashi noticed. _Not Suna, then. They don’t send out two taijutsu users on the same team_. The man pulled a sword, and Kakashi palmed a kunai to block with. As a test, Kakashi flicked a few shuriken at the man: he batted them out of the air almost contemptuously. A hitae-ate was tied around the stranger’s neck, a scratched-out Sand emblem in the center of it that Kakashi didn’t believe for a moment.

“Is that all?” The man sneered. “The rumors really are a crock of shit, aren’t they. Mito was right about you.” _He might have been watching before_ , Kakashi thought.

“So that’s her name,” Kakashi said, feigning a bright smile. “Sweet girl. A little headstrong, don’t you think?” The man growled, and Kakashi continued, weight light on his toes. “I’m sure she’s having a good time at Torture and Interrogation. They’re always so attentive to their guests.” The man’s eyes flicked west, and Kakashi filed that for reference: this man knew where T&I was housed. This was looking less and less like the actions of an individual missing-nin or an impulsive teenager.

“So,” Kakashi continued, “you’re not from Suna.” The man looked surprised for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter where we’re from,” he said. “You’ll be sorry you messed with us.” Kakashi made a face, and dodged as the man rushed him, blocking the sweeping sword blade with crossed kunai that spat sparks as the metal clashed. Kakashi backed away a little bit, drawing the man further onto the roof, so his view of the streets was cut off. He didn’t want the guy getting any idea about hostages, or seeing the police if they approached on foot.

Kakashi looked the man up and down, blatantly evaluating him. It was a calculated insult, and the man hissed in response.

“A swordsman,” Kakashi said, “and a taijutsu specialist. Where’s your sensor?” The man’s eyes flicked to the right, and Kakashi shrugged, carefully not looking in that direction. “We’ll find them soon enough,” he said, as if it didn’t matter to him. _What is taking so long?_ he wondered. The police should have noticed this by now. Hell, even ANBU should have noticed this by now, what with the way Kakashi had spiked his chakra on that first dodge.

“I’m not telling you anything,” the man said. He pulled a second sword and rushed Kakashi — headlong and obvious, but very, very fast. Kakashi opened his left eye for a bare instant and dodged at the last minute, judging it to the millimeter. Then he gathered lightning in his hand and spun after the other man, who had slightly overbalanced when his lunge missed Kakashi. The man’s blades shot out in tandem and Kakashi nearly lost his hand; the overbalancing had been a feint.

“Good,” Kakashi said, and grinned. This might even be _fun_. They hovered for a moment as if time had stopped for the two of them.

“What’s your name?” Kakashi asked. The man just growled at him and came at him again. This time Kakashi dodged early, and took a swipe at the man’s hamstrings; he dodged neatly, sticking the tips of his swords into the roof and using them to pull his body out of the way while he was still in the air. It was a move Kakashi hadn’t seen in quite some time.

“Not Stone either,” Kakashi observed. With the exception of their Kage, their jutsu tended to be too rooted in footwork to think of using swords as an anchor for aerial movement like that.

“Will you just _shut up_?” But neither of them moved. After a tense moment, Kakashi palmed the kunai in his right hand, looped the other over his middle finger and started forming seals for a mid-range jutsu. As he’d expected, the man attacked him to prevent the sequence from being finished. What Kakashi hadn’t expected was the rain of kunai that came with the attack. The man had pulled out a scroll and summoned the damn things. Silently. Kakashi blocked them with the kunai in his hand, and wished he were wearing his gloves: the metal plates on the backs would be damn handy if this guy kept using projectiles.

Kakashi crouched with lightning playing around the fingers of his right hand, a kunai clutched in his left. He missed his gloves. He also wished he’d had a little longer since the last fight; his limbs were a little heavier than they ought to be. It wasn’t affecting his movement yet, but it might be a poison that was exacerbated by exertion, in which case he would need to wrap this up fast.

“You know,” Kakashi observed, “you can’t be as stupid as you look, to have gotten past our barriers.” 

The man didn’t react to the barb. Instead, he just watched Kakashi, his weight carefully balanced. He didn’t move. _Interesting_ , Kakashi thought, wondering if he could get the man to rush him.

“Will you use poison, too?” Kakashi tried, opting for a different tack. “I thought that was just for cowards and girls.” The man laughed, real amusement and not a little disdain in the sound.

“That’s the problem with Konoha,” he said. “You and your rules.” _So they are from another village_ , Kakashi thought, _and have information about Konoha_. It would be nice to get more information out of him, but Kakashi’s ears had started ringing faintly, which was never a good sign.

Kakashi rushed him this time, releasing a handful of shuriken to herd him to one side, and ducking under the man’s swords to jab him in the kidneys with enough force in the _chidori_ to injure, but not enough to rip through him. There would be questions for him, and the medics got annoyed so easily when it came to prisoners. Kakashi danced back out of range and watched cautiously. His opponent seemed to be in pain, but not as much as he might expect.

“Backstabbing,” the man said, and he almost sounded approving. He grinned wide and Kakashi saw that his canines were sharpened in a way he’d seen before. _Mist_ , he thought. _I’d bet he passed the exam in Mist, before the reforms. And she knew the Mizukage’s name._

“What will the Mizukage say when we tell Mist that their shinobi tried to start another war?” Kakashi asked, tossing a kunai from hand to hand. It was a gamble, but it worked. The man’s face went blank with shock before he tried to recover.

“Why would she care about missing-nin?” _Gotcha,_ Kakashi thought. Most shinobi assumed the Kages were men, and Mist’s new Kage hadn’t gone out of her way to correct such assumptions: not yet. Kakashi rather thought she had her plate full, what with the previous Mizukage’s odd actions and Mist’s famous prejudices against bloodline abilities.

“Dear Terumi Mei,” Kakashi said, as if composing a letter. “We regret to inform you that three of —“ he heard the softest hint of a whisper behind him and dropped flat to the ground, already rolling to one side an instant before a spout of water hit where he’d been standing hard enough to chip the balcony. _Well_ , he thought, _I think I just found the sensor._ Two to one wasn’t odds Kakashi usually minded, but he’d been looking forward to a quiet evening of reading, and maybe apologizing for the state of Iruka’s apartment, not fighting off ambitious Mist-nin with a mysterious grudge. Especially not fighting off Mist-nin while his limbs seemed to be growing heavier and heavier with each breath.

“Did you get it?” the sensor asked. _So they were looking for something_ , Kakashi thought, fiercely pleased. Mito hadn’t had anything on her when T&I took her away, which meant that whatever they were looking for, it was still in Iruka’s apartment.

“No,” Kakashi said, and stood just as he formed the final seals for the water dragon jutsu. Twin watery heads raised up, far larger than the puddles on the roof, and smashed down towards the Mist nin.

“What?” the sensor exclaimed, “but that’s Zabuz—“

“Shut up!” the other one yelled. They both dodged neatly, but were clearly shocked.

 _So they ARE Mist_ , Kakashi thought. And then: _ANBU had better get their asses over here stat._ The jutsu had drained far more chakra than it ought, and his vision was threatening to blur. _I should not be this tired. And if a jutsu like that on a rooftop doesn’t get someone’s attention, something else is very, very wrong._

The Mist nin rolled back to their feet on the far side of the balcony, keeping an eye on Kakashi as they discussed something in furious whispers. For his part, Kakashi kept an eye on them but didn’t act; if they wanted to give him a breather, he’d take it. Then he smiled behind the mask; a familiar chakra was approaching down in the streets, and that meant that several other shinobi whose chakra was damped too far to be perceptible were probably also working their way along rooflines in the neighborhood.

“But he’s the Cop—“ the sensor protested. He looked young: no more than a teenager, with a shock of bright orange-red hair tied back at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah,” the older man said. “So what? Mito got him. He’ll keel over any minute if we just keep him going.”

 _So it does get worse with exertion_ , Kakashi thought. _I’d hoped I was wrong._ He blinked, and flashed his chakra minutely, just enough for Tenzo to recognize the pattern. _Get up here_ , it said, less urgent than a stronger pulse would have been, _I could use the help._ Or, as Tenzo had translated it when Kakashi was still in ANBU, _Kakashi-sempai’s about to fall over, someone go scoop him up._

To their credit, the two Mist nin noticed the ANBU agents a split-second before they were wrapped in chakra wire and shocked into unconsciousness. Four masked figures crouched around them, checking that they were actually out, before one stood and walked over to Kakashi.

“Are you all right, Kakashi-sempai?” Tenzo asked. He sounded concerned, but not actively worried, which meant Kakashi looked better than he felt.

“I’m fine,” Kakashi said. And then, because this was Tenzo, and he couldn’t always resist teasing him: “I hope I didn’t interrupt your nap.” There was the hint of a question in there, though — _what took so long?_ — and Tenzo shook his head.

“The Hokage has visitors,” he said, and grimaced. Kakashi cocked his head to one side. It would have to be the trade delegation that had entered the other day; no one else was important enough to have demanded an ANBU presence.

But the delegation might well have been how the Mist nin got into Konoha — a party that large was hard to screen appropriately. They had had letters of introduction from a number of very important lords, too. If Kakashi’s fledgling suspicions were correct, some of those letters might be either forgeries or evidence that at least one of the lords in question had been bribed. Neither would be good news.

“I assume the visitors will be appropriately horrified to discover that such renegades snuck into their service.” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. Tenzo chuckled. Two of the other three ANBU members hoisted the unconscious Mist nin over their shoulders and headed off to T&I. The other stood up and walked over, step cautious, posture uncertain.

“The Hokage will want answers.” His fingers were almost appallingly pale against his gloves. He took a closer look at Kakashi, but his tone was entirely dispassionate as he said: “You should come to the Tower or go to the hospital.”

Kakashi shook his head. “I’ll stay here,” he said. “Someone’s got to tell Iruka-sensei what happened to his apartment.”

“He’s stubborn,” Tenzo said. And then, when the other ANBU held up a hand as if to protest, “he’ll be fine. Kakashi-sempai has lots of experience passing out. He knows better than to be stupid about this.” There was a faint hint of warning in his tone.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Kakashi said, waving a hand dismissively at the two of them. His head was beginning to throb, but that would surely go away on its own. Tenzo cocked his head at Kakashi, and he could almost imagine the expression behind the flat, cat-featured mask. But he nodded, gestured at the other, and jumped to the next roof. Kakashi stood until they were out of sight, and then glanced around. Iruka’s teacup was still intact, lying on its side next to the wall.

Kakashi picked it up and dropped back down into the apartment to get more tea. The teapot, when he got to it, was still steaming. The fight hadn’t taken more than a few minutes, at the most. Kakashi poured himself another cup of tea and tipped it back unceremoniously. He did that twice more, in the hopes that the caffeine would help, and then poured himself a cup to take up to the roof. The living room still made him feel vaguely guilty, and the kitchen was too small for him to want to stay in there for long.

When he got back to the roof, someone on the street waved at him. Kakashi gestured them up, and the figure walked around to the back of the building and walked very deliberately up the wall the same way Kakashi had. It was one of the new genin — Kakashi didn’t know his name.

“Files from the Hokage,” he said, sounding a little nervous. “She said to tell you —“ he swallowed, “— ‘don’t be an idiot, and read these damn things all the way through.’ She wants to see you tomorrow morning, too.” He paused. “What happened?” Kakashi looked at him, and at the railing.

“I got bored,” he said, and took the files. Then he sat down, and pointedly looked away. The genin swallowed again, and then got the hint.

“Um,” he said, “okay. Uh, have a good night?” The boy walked back down the side of the building, and Kakashi shook his head. There was a perfectly good staircase. But at that point, his age-mates had been ecstatic to defy gravity, and had made a point of walking up and down almost anything they could. It seems some things hadn’t changed that much.

Kakashi put his teacup to one side and opened up the files he’d been given. It was a dossier on the trading party that had entered Konoha a couple of days ago and it contained a full roster of their members and employees, and their letters of approval and introduction. He crouched by the files, teacup in hand, reading closely and slotting bits of information into place. When his tea cooled down he considered going back down to get more and decided to just heat it up again. The mini-katon made his head spin. _Right_ , Kakashi thought, sitting down, _that’s enough of that_.

—— ——

It seemed like forever before Kakashi heard Iruka’s apartment door open.

“I’m up here,” he called, before Iruka had time to say anything about the state of his apartment. “And I know it’s a bit of a mess. Come up.” He paused, then added, “there’s tea in the kitchen.” He heard Iruka walk into the kitchen and then saw Iruka reach up to place a teacup on the edge of the roof before swinging up from the window. Iruka’s eyes widened at the state of the railing and the cracks in the building’s facade.

“What happened?” Iruka asked. Kakashi cocked his head to one side: Iruka seemed very calm.

“Well,” he said, temporizing.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, “my apartment is a disaster. Don’t — just don’t.” Kakashi blinked, and then sat back.

“Someone was rummaging around in your apartment. She didn’t take it well when I told her to stop.”

“Someone.” Iruka’s tone was flat.

“Mmm,” Kakashi said. “She didn’t say where she was from. Didn’t say much of anything, really.”

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, and his voice was quiet in the way that (at the mission desk, at least) meant Kakashi should probably pay attention or get banged over the head with a scroll. “I don’t want to play twenty questions. Just tell me what happened.”

Kakashi gave him an abbreviated account, including some of what Tenzo had told him, and a couple of theories the files had suggested. Iruka didn’t technically have the clearance for this, but it was his apartment they’d been burglarizing. And even Kakashi didn’t technically have the clearance for some of it, anymore, if you wanted to dot the ‘i’s and cross the ’t’s.

“So,” Iruka said, “let me get this straight. You fought off a burglar and then you made tea.” He looked baffled. Kakashi just nodded. “And then you didn’t want to stay in the apartment, so you came up to the roof—“ 

“Balcony,” Kakashi interrupted. “It’s not the roof.”

Iruka glared. “You came up to the balcony, then, with a cup of tea. And then you were attacked again. After which you decided to — to drink more tea.”

“Someone had to tell you what had happened to your apartment,” Kakashi offered.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, “you could have sent me a message.” He squinted at Kakashi, and then reached out a hand to Kakashi’s forehead, pushing his hair out of the way. “You’re flushed,” he said. “And you’re burning up. Come indoors, at least.” He gathered the papers up efficiently, and took both teacups before looking at the damaged railing. “Well,” he said, making a face as he looked at the edge of the balcony, “I suppose it’s easier to get over the railing now?” Kakashi chuckled, and followed him into the apartment.

Iruka shut the window, and stepped close, hands on Kakashi’s biceps. Kakashi saw the teacups and papers on the floor, and relaxed.

“So helpful,” Iruka whispered, and pressed a kiss to Kakashi’s masked lips. Kakashi pulled back, and Iruka looked confused. Kakashi pulled the mask down.

“She used contact poison,” he said.

Comprehension dawned in Iruka’s eyes. Kakashi waved at the fine layer of light-grey ash in one corner of the room. After glancing down, he also nodded at his legs and jacket, where faint smudges of white were still visible, unaffected by the fireball.

“Not much of it,” he said, before Iruka could worry too much, “and it’s mostly inert now. But there’s no sense you tasting it, too.” Iruka stared at him, something almost like disbelief clear on his face.

“Of course.” Iruka said, and then, “it’s mostly inert.” Kakashi wondered if Iruka was going to be angry about that, but Iruka just looked at the white streaks and the ash for a moment. Then he said, his tone tentative: “Do you want to clean up? I could run your clothes, and I think mine would probably fit while yours are in the wash.” Kakashi blinked, a little surprised by the offer. He was even more surprised that it didn’t seem like a terrible idea. _I must trust him_ , Kakashi thought, testing the idea. Though it was an unaccustomed sensation, it didn’t feel wrong.

“All right,” he heard himself say, and there was a brief flicker of surprise on Iruka’s face, too.

“Okay,” Iruka said, “I’ll just get —“ he turned toward the bathroom and stopped when Kakashi didn’t follow. Kakashi shook his head to clear it and moved to follow Iruka. 

When he had finished sluicing himself off with warm water and scrubbing any hints of the poison out of his hair and off of his forearms and face, Kakashi pulled on the clothes Iruka had left. They were a near fit: the pants were a little too short, but otherwise fine. There was no cowl on the neck of the shirt. Kakashi paused, his hand hovering at the door. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought, and made himself push it open.

Iruka had closed all the windows, and even pulled the blinds over the ones that weren’t opaque. He had straightened some of the papers and some of the picture frames, but the bookcase was still a disaster.

“Oh, good,” he said, not even looking around when Kakashi stepped into the room, “can you help me get this back up? I think if you push, I can keep some of the books on their shelves.” Kakashi nodded and moved over to help. He resisted the urge to tug upwards at the neck of Iruka’s shirt, and stood before the bookshelf, hands on its upper corners. Iruka crawled between his legs and knelt before the half-fallen contents, hands pressing a shelf of books into place as Kakashi put the bookcase upright. Most of the books had already fallen out, but Iruka did manage to get the contents of the bottom shelves to stay put, which Kakashi supposed would make a little less work. Iruka stayed kneeling on the ground at his feet and Kakashi stepped back hastily, not wanting to crowd him.

Iruka looked at him a little oddly while he stood up, and put his hands on his waist, elbows out, as if he were about to start telling Naruto off in the Academy playground. But he still didn’t stare at Kakashi’s bared face, just quirked an eyebrow at him, for all the world as if there were nothing unusual about Kakashi not wearing his mask.

“All right,” Iruka said. “First things first. Are you hungry?”

Kakashi just looked at him for a moment. Iruka’s apartment was an utter disaster, scattered with contact poison and with his possessions, with holes in the wall and his closets torn apart. At least three people were very interested in something in his possession and willing to fight for it, there were more people possibly still uncaught who might be after him as well, and he wanted to know if Kakashi was _hungry_?

“Kakashi,” Iruka asked, and he dropped his hands. “Are you all right?” He took a tentative step forward, and Kakashi shook his head. It was a poor idea: the room wavered.

“I’m fine,” he said. It was almost true. He was exhausted, but he wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t a lethal poison; now that it was a little further along, he recognized it. “And yes. I’m hungry.”

Kakashi wondered if the kitchen ought to be sanitized before anyone cooked in it, but Iruka called out instead, which neatly avoided the problem. While they waited for the food to arrive, Kakashi shelved fallen books more-or-less topically, and Iruka straightened furniture and started trying to sort the various piles of paper that had been tossed around.

“It’s all right,” he said, when Kakashi finished with the books and offered to help, “these aren’t really organized, so I couldn’t tell you where to put them, anyway.” Kakashi curled up on the couch and watched, feeling his eyelid grow heavier and heavier.

Iruka woke him when the food arrived. They sat in the half-sorted room and made slightly awkward conversation as they ate. Iruka’s day had been largely uneventful, and Kakashi’s more or less the same, until this — whatever it was — had happened. Kakashi sat with his back to the worst of the remaining mess, and felt foolishly glad that the bookcase hid the largest hole in the wall. The damages weren’t significant enough to merit writing up in a mission report, but they felt more important here in Iruka’s apartment, somehow. He stared at the vase in the center of the table, wondering absently why it hadn’t broken.

“… Kakashi,” Iruka said, and his tone made it clear it wasn’t the first time he’d said Kakashi’s name. He pulled back a hand. It seemed he had been about to wave it before Kakashi’s face. Kakashi shook his head slightly, and focused on Iruka, who paused.

“Would you,” Iruka said, and then stopped. Kakashi made an inquiring face. “That is, you could stay. If you wanted to.” Iruka probably wasn’t aware that he was biting his lower lip. He looked faintly nervous, which Kakashi found unaccountably charming. He considered it.

“All right,” he said. Iruka smiled, and pulled him to his feet.

Kakashi tried to figure out a way of saying _I’m too tired_ without being insulting. To Kakashi’s surprise, Iruka just stripped and climbed into bed, holding the covers open for Kakashi. And when Kakashi slid in next to him, Iruka kissed him, and then rolled over, pulled Kakashi’s arm over his waist, and went to sleep. Kakashi nuzzled into the hair at the nape of Iruka’s neck, laced his fingers with Iruka’s, and did the same.

—— —— 

Kakashi reported to the Hokage first thing in the morning, or, well, close enough. It was before lunch, at least, and Shizune didn’t look actively cranky when he ambled in, just vaguely annoyed.

“The merchants claim to have no idea that these three were shinobi.” Shizune said, after she shut the door behind Kakashi. She sounded as if she were picking up in the middle of an earlier conversation and held her hand out for the file Kakashi had brought back with him without even looking in his direction.

“Of course,” Tsunade said. “The irritating thing is, they’re probably telling the truth, or something like it. Those three don’t have anything on them that’s identifiable as shinobi gear except scrolls. Even the damn sword was stored in a scroll while they were traveling.”

Kakashi shrugged.

“So they _didn’t_ pay the merchants off?” he asked, and Tsunade snorted.

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “They should have been registered separately when they entered Konoha, even if the merchants didn’t think there was anything odd about them.” Kakashi nodded.

“Instead,” Tsunade continued, “a considerable sum of money changed hands so that they were registered as part of the merchants’ usual traveling group. And it was clearly planned in advance: the merchants brought fewer people than usual, so that the numbers wouldn’t look odd.” Kakashi considered that.

“Hm,” he said, and then, “I don’t suppose can we afford to ban them for this kind of infraction?” 

Shizune shook her head, but he’d already known the answer.

“They have plausible deniability,” she said, flipping through pages of the file Kakashi had handed her. “It’s not proveable that they knew who they were harboring.”

“And their patrons are too close to the daimyo,” Tsunade added. “The most we can do officially is slap their wrists. I'll impose a fine now, and a slightly higher excise tax for a set period of time. It will annoy them, but that’s about all.” 

She glanced at him over her folded hands and her gaze sharpened. “Konoha,” she said, and she stared straight at him, “can’t risk alienating anyone so close to our feudal lord and his entourage.”

 _Tsunade can’t officially condone the merchants being blackmailed or threatened_ , Kakashi translated, _so ANBU can’t do it. But an interested party with a personal grudge, well, that’s something else entirely._ He nodded, a slight smile quirking his lips.

“Of course.” Kakashi said. “If that’s all?” He turned as if to go.

“Get back here, kid,” Tsunade snapped. “That only sorts out the merchants. What I want to know now is why there are Mist nin in Konoha and what they want with one of our shinobi?”

“What does T&I say?” Kakashi asked, hooking his fingers in his pockets.

“That they’re all three of them ridiculously stubborn,” Tsunade said, “and that they insist they don’t know exactly what they’re looking for, but they’re supposed to know it when they see it.” She leaned back for a moment, and then hunched over her clasped hands again. 

“And,” she added in disgust, “apparently they were well-hypnotized. Inoichi can’t break it directly without risking their minds.” And driving a Mist nin insane, even if he or she had broken into someone’s apartment, would be a perfect way to start another war, which Konoha couldn’t afford at their current reduced strength. “Kurenai is going in to see if a genjutsu helps. It’s worth a try.”

“Hm.” Kakashi cocked his head at Shizune. “I don’t suppose we have any idea what they might be looking for?” She shook her head.

“That,” Tsunade said, and he stiffened at the tone of her voice, “is where you come in.” She put her hands palm-down on the desk and looked him in the eye. “Iruka-sensei has to have some idea why they broke into his apartment. Find out what it is, so we don’t have to risk breaking one of the prisoners’ minds.”

Kakashi opened his mouth, but no protest came out. This wasn’t an unreasonable demand. Kakashi was closer to Iruka than most people with the clearance to know about this, and there was no sense sending in a stranger.

It still felt invasive. Kakashi nodded and left, his pace carefully calculated to betray absolutely none of his disquiet.

He didn’t feel like going back to his apartment, so he meandered, people-watching and thinking about how to broach the subject to Iruka. It would have to be tonight: Tsunade wouldn’t countenance any longer delay. Kakashi swallowed a sour taste in the back of his mouth, and dropped by the school to offer to help Iruka clean up his apartment a little more that evening.

After a bit, Kakashi headed over to the warehouse district, meandering past flurries of activity as pallets were loaded and unloaded and goods were packed and unpacked and prepared for the market. None of the merchants seemed terribly nervous, which meant Tsunade hadn’t applied much pressure yet. Kakashi made a note to come back tomorrow and see what had changed. They were too large a group to be able to leave quietly, so he didn’t need to worry much about them skipping town before he had a chance to have a short conversation with their head.

He ran into Guy in the mid-afternoon. When Kakashi proposed a sparring challenge instead of tic-tac-toe, Guy sparkled alarmingly brightly, and two of his genin team backed away. The third pulled out a notebook and some sparkles of his own, which was mildly alarming in its own right.

Kakashi won, which put them even again, and Guy vowed to climb to the top of the Hokage monument without using chakra, which would probably keep him busy for a little while. The alarmingly enthusiastic student rushed off to join him; the other two went back in the direction of the practice grounds. Kakashi went home and cleaned the tar out of his hair: not specifying a venue for the fight hadn’t been the best idea. Once he’d gotten cleaned up, he headed over to the archives for a little bit.

He knocked on Iruka’s door around dinnertime, a bottle of sake in one hand.

“Kakashi!” Iruka sounded pleased. “Come in —“ he pulled the door open wide, and Kakashi glanced around curiously. The room was nearly intact again, which made his excuse for being here pretty thin. But when he looked in the kitchen, Kakashi smiled: he’d guessed that Iruka would be cooking enough for two, and it looked like he’d been right.

“It’s almost done,” Iruka said, slipping back into the kitchen. “Can you —“ he gestured at the cabinet with dishes. Kakashi laid the table, and then sat back, waiting until Iruka appeared with a dish heaped high.

“It looks better,” Kakashi said, nodding at the bookshelf, which was mostly re-organized.

“Yeah,” Iruka said. He looked down at his plate.

“Do you need any help?” Kakashi asked. He supposed there were more subtle ways to bring the topic up, but, well, Iruka was smart enough to see through them pretty quickly. Better to be more direct.

“Not really,” Iruka said, and then, belatedly, “thanks.” He looked down at his plate, and pushed a piece of vegetable around.

“Hm,” Kakashi said, and started eating. “Your landlord isn’t angry, is he?” Iruka looked up at him.

“Not really,” he said, and shrugged. “These things happen.” _Right_ , Kakashi thought _, ‘these things,’ as if having another village’s shinobi ransack your apartment were normal._ There was a pause while the two of them ate.

“It’s good,” Kakashi offered. Iruka smiled, and Kakashi let him redirect the conversation for a little while with an anecdote about the nightmare one of his students was with projectiles of any kind. Kakashi made the appropriate noises, and laughed more than once. Iruka was animated, talking about his students, and Kakashi was tempted to lean across the table and kiss him, and forget Tsunade’s questions entirely. He didn’t. There was a pause when Iruka stopped talking, and Kakashi spoke into it after a moment.

“I don’t suppose you figured out what they were looking for?”

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, and he sounded suddenly tired. “I don’t know. Can you just let it drop?”

“No,” Kakashi admitted. He caught Iruka’s eye. “No, I can’t.” He tipped his head in the direction of the Hokage Tower, and Iruka’s eyes widened. He looked down at the cup in his hand, and tipped it back. Then he held it out to be refilled.

“You _can’t_ ,” Iruka said, and he sounded a little bitter. “I suppose I’m expected to be grateful she didn’t send Ibiki or Inoichi.” Kakashi resisted the urge to shift in place, uncomfortable. Iruka turned back to his plate, and kept eating until it was clean. He poured himself another cup of sake, and there was a flush in his cheeks by the time he turned back to Kakashi.

“You can ask me whatever questions you need to,” he said, sounding resigned. “But we’re cleaning up first.” Kakashi nodded. He carried out the plates and helped Iruka wash up and put away the leftovers.

They walked back into the living room together, and Iruka settled onto his couch. But when Kakashi moved to join him, Iruka shook his head.

“Not right now,” he said. “Just get it over with.”

Kakashi settled on the floor, facing Iruka.

“The Godaime Mizukage put out a general amnesty when she was appointed,” he said, “calling back to Mist anyone with a bloodline limit who fled the village under the previous Mizukage’s edicts.” Iruka nodded. He looked puzzled. “The archives say that several people from Mist settled in Konoha,” Kakashi said, “when the Nidaime and Sandaime felt they weren’t a danger to Konoha.” Iruka nodded again.

“I just don’t see what that has to do with _me_ ,” Iruka said. He sounded almost petulant.

“Your grandmother was probably one of the refugees from Mist,” Kakashi prompted. Iruka blinked at him, his expression unreadable. “That would make you the inheritor of a Mist bloodline limit,” Kakashi said.

“Wait. I’m _what_?” Iruka sounded incredulous, and a little angry, which was not at all what Kakashi had expected.

“According to Konoha’s archives,” Kakashi said, “your grandmother arrived in Konoha as a young woman. Her place of birth is never mentioned.” It all fit. It explained everything.

“Oh my god,” Iruka said, his tone impatient and exasperated. “She was from Uzushiogakure. She didn’t want anyone to come after her after the village was destroyed. Like Kushina-san.”

Kakashi blinked.

“Then why would —“ he paused. “Mist got it wrong,” Kakashi said, wonderingly. “They’re so sure you’re a descendent of —“ he started to laugh. Iruka stared at him. Kakashi waved a hand in front of his face. “No,” he said, “no, that’s all.” He shook his head and stood up. “Can I join you now?” he asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Iruka asked. Kakashi stayed standing.

“The shinobi who broke into your apartment. They think your grandmother was a Mist shinobi with a strong bloodline limit,” Kakashi said. “They’re wrong. They sent a three-person cell into the heart of Konoha, broke into private property, poisoned someone, and they’re _wrong_.” He grinned. “Tsunade is going to _love_ this.” Iruka looked at him. 

“And you’re done?” he asked. “You’re not going to keep asking me questions I can’t answer?” There was suspicion in his voice. Kakashi shook his head.

“All right,” Iruka said, and he relaxed fractionally. “You can sit down.” Kakashi slipped into the space, and wraped an arm around Iruka’s shoulders. He was still shaking a little bit, holding back laughter.

“This really isn’t this funny,” Iruka said, but there was a smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

“No,” Kakashi said, “it really, really is. Trust me. It really is.” He was looking forward to telling Tsunade.

Iruka looked less irritated than he had earlier, but he didn’t ask Kakashi to stay, and Kakashi didn’t suggest it. He walked home still smiling slightly at the prospect of Tsunade’s reaction to his news.

—— —— 

The next morning, Kakashi arranged to arrive at the Hokage Tower before Tsunade herself showed up. When she opened the door to her office a half-hour or so later, it was to find Kakashi leaning against the wall reading. She closed the door and moved behind her desk without a word.

“You’re going to love this,” Kakashi said without preamble, and laid out the situation. Tsunade regarded the two of them seriously, her hands steepled in front of her.

“Do you have any proof?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kakashi said. He pulled a scroll out of a pocket and handed it to her. “This is a sealing jutsu from Uzushiogakure. Iruka would rather it not be spread around.”

“Of course not,” Tsunade agreed, but she didn’t move to open it or hand it back. Kakashi turned to the door.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said. He came back to stand in front of her desk, but she didn’t speak immediately, eyes focused somewhere in the middle of the empty room.

“The merchants didn’t seem too worried when I looked in on them yesterday morning,” he offered. “If they’re scrambling to get out, they’re doing it more slowly than I would. I think they overestimate the kind of protection their patronage gives them.” 

“Hmm,” Tsunade said. “We spoke over dinner last night.” Kakashi quirked a smile: he didn’t think they’d be feeling quite so complacent anymore. Then Tsunade looked back at Kakashi, her gaze sharp.

“Iruka may not be who they thought he was. They still had some reason to think that, and we need to know where they got their information.” Kakashi nodded.

“I’m going to look up our last peace treaty with Mist, to see what our response to this kind of infraction should be,” Tsunade said. “You’re going to go have a conversation with our detainees. Kurenai wasn’t able to get through yesterday, but Inoichi thinks they might respond to hypnosis, if someone can figure out which parts of their minds to target, or if they can be made unaware of him.”

Kakashi nodded. He’d been planning on heading over there anyway, but if they wanted him there, all the better. Sometimes people in T&I got a little touchy about other people asking their detainees questions uninvited.

“It may be tricky,” she said. “They must want something very much, to go this far.” And Terumi Mei didn’t seem the kind of person to rush into something half-planned. The chances of one of the Mist nin dying if pushed too hard was very real, then, and the chances of the Mizukage responding badly, even more so.

“Yes,” Kakashi agreed. It might be very difficult indeed. “I’ll see.”

—— —— 

Inoichi looked almost relieved when Kakashi arrived. He also looked exhausted, and Kakashi thought he had probably been here almost constantly since the prisoners had arrived, trying to ease his way into three very well-guarded minds. Inoichi nodded in greeting, and then drew him down a hallway toward one of the banks of holding cells.

“They’re in three wings,” he said, his voice very low. Kakashi nodded. It was standard procedure to separate those who were captured together, lest one escape and let his adjacent cell-mates out as well. There were two guards outside the first occupied cell.

“She spat poison at the first guard to bring her food,” Inoichi said. He sounded almost grudgingly approving. “Almost took him down.” _So this cell is Mito_ , Kakashi thought. He wondered if they’d learned the names of the other two yet. “She hasn’t said anything,” Inoichi continued. “None of them have.” It wasn’t surprising. For them to break this quickly would have been a red flag, too easy and too swift a subornment of their loyalty to Mist. It would almost certainly be sign of some subterfuge, some other goal in their capture.

Kakashi nodded at an empty room, and Inoichi followed him inside, closing the door behind them to keep the sound of their voices from the hall.

“They’re looking for descendants of a Mist-born escapee with a bloodline limit.” Kakashi said. “We don’t know exactly what they were sent for, but we need to find out the source of their information. They know too much about Konoha.” Inoichi’s eyes widened slightly.

“That fits,” Inoichi replied. “We weren’t sure what they were after. Their minds are remarkably well-closed.” He shook his head. “I thought if you could ensnare one of them,” and he gestured at his left eye, though Kakashi had already known what he meant, “I might be able to worm past the barriers, at least to surface thoughts.”

He looked frustrated again, and Kakashi knew Inoichi remembered the days when the Uchiha had worked hand-in-hand with the Yamanaka clan, when their joined jutsu had woven through prisoners’ minds like a summer breeze: soft and sweet, all-encompassing and entirely unstoppable. Years later, it was just another on a list of regrets.

“I have an idea,” Kakashi said, and executed a flawless _henge_. A moment later, Umino Iruka stood in the cell with Inoichi. Kakashi removed his fingerless gloves, which would be unnecessarily difficult to disguise, and pulled down the cowl: Iruka didn’t hide his face. After a moment’s hesitation, he unstrapped the weapons pouch from his thigh: Iruka didn’t often wear one. He palmed a few items from the pouch, put the gloves in, and set the lot on the floor. When he stood up, it was with straight shoulders, not a slouch.

“Let’s go,” Kakashi said, and even his voice was different. He moved his hitae-ate to sit even on his forehead. Inoichi looked him over, and nodded approval.

Mito stiffened as the door opened, or perhaps she’d been tense as a bow-string the whole time she’d been in the cell; Kakashi had no way to be sure. It was almost certainly the first time she’d been captured, though: the edge of ill-concealed uncertainty in her eyes was hard to fake. She stood as Kakashi approached her, stepping away from the low platform that served as bench and bed. Her hands were cuffed before her, her legs left free.

“ _You_ ,” she hissed, ignoring Inoichi completely. “You _traitor_.” Kakashi stopped, shocked at the depth of feeling in her voice. “How _dare_ you,” she continued. “You should have come back as soon as the Godaime Mizukage was sworn in,” she hissed, “when she declared amnesty.” She spat at him and Kakashi side-stepped it, moving a little clumsily. Iruka moved more slowly when he was startled.

“What?” He asked. “I’m a shinobi of the Leaf.” She laughed. There was nothing amused in the sound. 

“You’re of a founding house of the village of Hidden Mist,” she said. “You owe the Mizukage your allegiance by the very blood that runs in your veins.” Kakashi allowed his confusion to show, as Iruka would have done.

“He happens to be of a founding bloodline of the village of Hidden Leaf,” Inoichi said mildly, stepping up beside Kakashi and sparing him from having to respond directly. “Or did you miss the monument, and the likeness of our Shodaime?” Kakashi let his shoulders soften a little with evident relief at Inoichi’s support.

“Maybe distantly.” Mito dismissed the idea. “If he were a direct descendant of your Hokage, he wouldn’t be a _schoolteacher_.” The scorn in her voice was palpable, and Kakashi’s mouth set in a hard line, even as his posture stiffened in indignation.

“If I’m _only a schoolteacher_ ,” Kakashi said, “I’m surprised you bothered.” His tone was scathing, but the waver of hurt beneath it was one he’d only heard once, when he and Iruka had stayed up drinking and talking almost until dawn. _I’m just an Academy teacher_ , Iruka had said, and he’d sounded so pained by the admission that Kakashi had looked up and met his gaze.

Mito dropped her eyes. “It’s a waste of a bloodline,” she said, and Kakashi thought she looked a little bit like one of Iruka’s students, apologizing and scuffing her toes in the schoolyard dirt. Then she looked up, and met Kakashi’s eye for the first time. “You could be so much more than just _this_.” She jerked her chin upward, as if to indicate the sum total of the man who stood before her.

If it was intended to be a compliment, it was the wrong tack to take with Iruka. But it had her attention, and she was still meeting his eyes. Kakashi felt the Sharingan activate, and began spinning a genjutsu, a tiny, spiderweb-strand at a time.

“What if I don’t want to be anything other than this?” Kakashi challenged, every bit as stubborn as Iruka would have been in this position. “What if I’m happy here?” Mito laughed.

“You’re a war orphan with no family,” she said, as if that were the sum total of Umino Iruka as far as she was concerned.

Kakashi froze. He’d never discussed Iruka’s parents with him, never talked much about his family at all. He’d have to tread carefully here, and see if he couldn’t direct the conversation back to more familiar ground.

“My parents were Konoha shinobi,” he said, biting out each word as Iruka did when his temper rose. She glared at him, and Kakashi started layering a vision of the cell around them, moving slowly and matching the genjutsu to reality in the sheen of the metal door, the roughness of the concrete floor, in every little detail. Behind him, Inoichi shifted, and Kakashi shook his head slightly, never breaking eye contact. _Not yet_ , he thought, and hoped Inoichi understood.

“Your parents were idiots,” Mito said. “They threw their lives away against a tailed beast. They were chuunin. They didn’t have a hope.” _How does she know this?_ Kakashi thought. _Where are they getting their intel?_ They knew far too much about Iruka to attribute it to the grapevine, or even to common knowledge about Naruto’s Academy instructor.

“My parents died for this village,” he shot back hotly, and willed a flush into his cheeks: Iruka was red-faced often enough at the mission desk. He clenched a fist, as if restraining his temper, and glared back at her.

And then he laid the last strand of the genjutsu in place, erasing Inoichi from her awareness entirely. He leaned forward, and Inoichi began to walk around the cell, to stand behind her.

 _Now_ , Kakashi thought, _hopefully all I have to do is get her thinking about these things, and they’ll surface far enough that Inoichi can skim them off the top, without having to go too far into that fog._ He broke eye contact with her, swearing under his breath, and crossed his arms.

“Your ancestors died for Mist.” Mito’s tone was matter-of-fact. “They helped found the village. Do you think we would forget that?” Her voice softened, and she took a small step forward. Kakashi watched her warily, his arms still folded.

This part of the conversation was easy, from an acting perspective. It was the genjutsu that was about to get more difficult. Inoichi stood behind her, about to put a hand on her head. Kakashi nodded, and wrapped her in an additional layer of vision-sense, preventing her from noticing the touch. He realized he’d been quiet for too long when she spoke again.

“You would be honored,” she said, and her tone was coaxing now, as if she thought she might win him over after all. “As the last of your line,” she continued, “you could have your choice of positions. The Mizukage would honor past agreements and obligations.” _So they were important_ , Kakashi thought, _whoever she thinks Iruka’s ancestors were_. It wasn’t entirely surprising. Clans with powerful bloodline limits tended to drift to the kage’s side over time, and these unknown shinobi might have been very highly placed indeed. They must have been, to merit this kind of incursion into Konoha just because they thought Iruka was the clan's last descendent.

Kakashi shook his head in denial and leaned a little away from her, keeping the flush in his — Iruka’s — cheeks. He uncrossed his arms and tugged fretfully at the end of his ponytail, leaving it lopsided.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “How do you — how did you get here?“ he broke off, and bit his lip. Iruka chewed on it when he was thinking hard, though he probably didn’t realize that he did so.

She shook her head, impatient with such an inconsequential question. 

“You can’t have just walked through the front gate and announced you wanted to steal a Konoha shinobi,” Kakashi pressed. He didn’t think she’d answer his question, but hopefully his question would pull up memories for Inoichi. 

“Why are you here?” Kakashi pressed.

Mito didn’t reply at first, and Kakashi opened his mouth: Iruka was many things, but patient was rarely one of them. She spoke before him.

“The clans have records,” she said. _Not ‘the village has records,’_ Kakashi noticed. _I wonder what happened to those_. “A Mist nin saw your grandmother in battle during the war. She was wearing the Konoha leaf.” Her features twisted, as if she couldn’t understand why anyone would do such a thing. _She’s loyal to a fault_ , Kakashi thought, _no wonder they sent her._

“My grandmother was a shinobi of Konoha,” Kakashi protested, in Iruka’s voice, but there wasn’t much force in it. Let her think she was right, see what Mist was willing to offer.

“It didn’t take the Godaime long to figure out which Konoha shinobi your grandmother had married, and how many children she’d had,” Mito continued, “and how many grandchildren." She gestured at him and Kakashi hoped Inoichi was getting something from this, because he was starting to feel the strain of holding the two jutsu at once.

“She was so pleased that you were still alive, Iruka,” Mito said. Her tone was softer, and she smiled for the first time. She was attractive enough when she smiled, Kakashi saw. Her sharp features softened a little, and she looked less like you could cut yourself on her cheekbones. _What would Iruka do now?_ Kakashi wondered. _Which direction do I take the conversation?_ Inoichi stood behind her with his eyes closed, offering no help in that regard.

“So she sent you,” Kakashi prompted. Mito nodded, and moved her hands as if to hold them out to him. The manacles clinked, and she stared at them, for all the world as if she’d forgotten her hands were bound. 

“We’re here to bring you home,” she said. “You can come back now, it’s safe.” _But it wasn’t, just a year or two ago_ , Kakashi knew. _What else_ , he thought _, where else do I draw her?_

“But it wasn’t,” he tried. “How many others have come back?” She flinched a little at that, and Kakashi wondered what Inoichi had gotten from that. She rallied, but he cut her off.

“They’re all dead,” Kakashi tried. It was something that had pained Iruka last night, even though they were strangers from another country. And then, because Iruka was too smart not to have figured this out, he added: “You wouldn’t try this if you had anyone else with this bloodline.”

She blinked, and looked taken aback. Was she surprised that he’d figured that out? A curious gap in their intel, to underestimate him thus. He wondered how much she knew about Mist’s overall defenses.

“You must be low on bloodline limits,” Kakashi continued, because Iruka was stubborn, and curious to a fault. “How many families died out entirely, I wonder?” His tone was not forgiving. “How many families did you hound to extinction for _difference_? And how much weaker has it made you?” Kakashi pushed. “To come begging for a _schoolteacher_.” There was venom in his tone now, and he stepped back from her.

“I’m a shinobi of the Leaf,” he said. There was no compromise in his tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t care what you’d offer me in Mist. This is my _home_.” Perhaps he ought to prevaricate longer, to get deeper into what she knew of Mist’s offers for Iruka, but Iruka would never do so, and if Inoichi hadn’t found out by now, longer would probably not help.

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes unflinching, and Kakashi wondered what she saw: an asset; a schoolteacher; a Konoha shinobi; a traitor to the Mist. Probably some combination of the four. He met her eyes, unwilling to give an inch. Iruka certainly never did. If he could stand up to Kakashi in front of a roomful of people who outranked him, he could certainly stand up to a captive kunoichi. Nothing happened for some time.

“You’ll be sorry about that.” Her voice was very even. She didn’t look attractive anymore. Her eyes were hard, and her features set in disapproval.

Behind her, Inoichi opened his eyes, and nodded at Kakashi. Kakashi concentrated for a moment, weaving an image of Iruka standing still and quiet into the genjutsu.

“What else do you need?” Kakashi asked.

“Not much,” Inoichi said. “Ask her what they were looking for in the apartment. I think we’ve gotten nearly everything else she knows. But keep her unaware of me when you drop the _henge_ — I want to see what goes through her mind when she sees you.” Kakashi nodded. He slipped back into the vision: Mito was frowning at him.

“Hm,” Kakashi said, watching Inoichi move his hand into place over the back of her head and close his eyes. "What were you looking for in the apartment?" Kakashi asked. Her eyes flickered from him to the door and back. 

"Nothing," she insisted, but they both knew she was lying.

"A token?" Kakashi pressed, "an heirloom from Mist?" She shook her head and glared, but said nothing more. 

“Well," Kakashi said. "I think I’m done here.” He took a step forward, and she watched him, wary. When he brought his hands up in front of his chest, she raised an eyebrow, doing her best to look disdainful.

“You don’t frighten me,” she said. Her voice was almost steady, but she clearly did fear Iruka, at least a little bit. That was interesting. He wondered what kind of bloodline limit she thought Iruka had. Inoichi would know by now.

“That’s a mistake,” Kakashi said. Iruka hated being underestimated.

Her eyes went wide, and a little bit frightened, but she hid it better than he had expected.

He raised his hands to his face and pulled up his mask. Then Kakashi dropped the _henge_.

Mito leaped back, or tried. Inoichi held her in place, one arm around her chest, holding her against him, the other gripping the back of her skull. She was still in the genjutsu, though it was a strain to hold her unaware of Inoichi’s identity.

“What —“ her eyes flicked desperately to Kakashi. “You —“ She struggled, and Inoichi kept her in place easily. Her eyes showed white all the way around, they were open so wide.

“Hi.” Kakashi waved at her, a casual gesture. She gaped.

“You —“ her eyes flicked around the room wildly. “But he didn’t — it wasn’t — _what did you do_?” He slipped his hitae-ate back down to its usual position and just looked at her. Her eyes widened.

“You didn’t,” she gasped, not-quite-unbelieving. “You —“ her face crumpled, and he wondered what she knew of the Sharingan, for it to horrify her so. Behind her, Inoichi opened his eyes, and Kakashi knew he was done.

“Well,” Kakashi said, “thank you for all your help.”

Kakashi bowed slightly, and she struggled in Inoichi’s grip. Inoichi nodded at Kakashi, and released her. She whirled on him, spitting mad, and Kakashi caught her by the elbows and pinned her arms behind her back, pulling her bound hands painfully against the manacles holding them together. When Mito saw Inoichi, she struggled harder, as if she could un-do his jutsu by defying him now.

Inoichi walked around the two of them as she tried to kick Kakashi in the crotch, and knocked quietly on the door. One of the guards opened it, and Inoichi stepped out. Kakashi pinched a chakra point to temporarily paralyze her legs, deposited Mito on the bed, and glanced at her when she tried to stand.

“I could knock you out, instead,” he offered. She glared, and nearly slid off the platform, trying to get her legs to move. “Really,” he said, “that’s not a good idea.” She spat at him again, and he dodged. This time, it ate into the wall behind his head. “Careful,” he said, stepping out the door, “you might hurt someone.” The guard closed the door as she started to swear, low and furious. Kakashi cocked his head to one side to listen. Her invective seemed to be mostly self-directed, which was almost a surprise. Usually nin her age blamed someone else for their failures.

“Is it enough?” Kakashi asked, and Inoichi shook his head. 

“She doesn’t know all of it. But I’m not sure any of them will.”

“Tell Tsunade,” Kakashi suggested. “We can try this again tomorrow on the big one, if she thinks it’s worthwhile. I don’t think it’ll work on the sensor.” 

They headed for Inoichi’s office; on the way there, Inoichi sent a young chuunin to fetch the Hokage. _Tsunade must be worried about this_ , Kakashi reflected, because she and Shizune showed up almost immediately.

“So?” Tsunade’s eyes were on the two of them as soon as the door was shut behind them. 

Mito hadn’t known all that much, after all. She was absolutely certain that Iruka was from a Mist bloodline. It was an interesting one, Kakashi thought, and one he hadn't seen before: a sensory jutsu that sounded a little bit like the Byakugan, but tactile in some way she wasn’t certain about. _It’s no wonder they want Iruka_ , Kakashi thought, _if they think he can do something like that._

The Mist team had been told to look for a family heirloom in Iruka's apartment, to prove the line of descent when they came back to Mist. It was as if the Mizukage feared that the bloodline limit would not have been sufficient proof on its own, and Kakashi filed that away to be considered later. If Mist were as divided as that implied, they might be nearly as weak as Konoha was at the moment.

Mito had also seen a handful of classified scrolls, but had no idea where the information in them had come from. As far as she was concerned, the Mizukage was pretty much omniscient, and the source of information was unimportant. _Shortsighted_ , Kakashi thought. _I’m surprised she made rank with that attitude._ He went back to listening to Inoichi’s concise description and explanation. He paid particular attention to the details about the merchant party. Judging by the expression on Tsunade’s face, some of the details Inoichi had uncovered didn’t quite line up with whatever the merchants had told her.

“So,” Tsunade summarized, “we know why they wanted Iruka and what they were looking for. And we know how they got into Konoha. But we don’t know how they found out about Iruka, and it seems they have an informant from inside the village.” Inoichi nodded. He looked pained at the scantiness of their information. Tsunade clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s more than we knew before,” she said, “and you’re not trying that again.” Kakashi blinked. Then he looked more closely at Inoichi, and saw the poorly-disguised strain. Kakashi pulled up his hitae-ate, and a brief glance with the Sharingan showed Inoichi's chakra levels to be curiously low, and the edges of his chakra signature jagged in a way Kakashi had never seen before.

“It ate at your chakra,” Kakashi said, astonished. “Whatever they did to her mind, it acted like a — like an acid.” Inoichi nodded. He looked resigned, and unhappy.

“It’s just as well,” Tsunade said, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “Our treaty with Mist is very specific about treatment of captives, and she’s the only one who injured anyone directly. The other two are essentially off-limits for that kind of thing.” She paused. “We could make a case for the swordsman, if we had to, but not the sensor.” She looked at Inoichi. “Send someone to fetch the other two,” she instructed, and Inoichi stepped out to find an assistant. Tsunade nodded at Shizune, who stepped out as well.

Kakashi looked at her curiously.

“We have to send them back within five days,” she said, “and I’m tired of beating around the bush.”

Kakashi wondered what the council would have to say about this. Nothing good, he guessed. They would press for interrogation until the end of the fifth day, he thought, and treatment as close to the letter of the treaty as possible.

“We have enough from the merchants and Mito to squeeze,” she said. “As much as we’re allowed to, at least. And we can hope they’re not aware of the full terms of our last treaty.”

Shizune stepped back in with Shikaku and two masked ANBU members: Tenzo and the pale one from the balcony, whose mask and bearing were almost expressionless. Inoichi came back in a little bit later, followed by four guards and the two prisoners. They looked stubborn, and Kakashi was surprised to see that the sensor, for all his unschooled outbursts on the roof, looked less worried than the older man beside him.

“What did you do to her?” It was the older of the two. _Definitely more worried_ , Kakashi thought. Tsunade stared him down.

“After she poisoned one of my most valuable shinobi?” Both of them glanced at Kakashi, and the man winced a little bit.

“We don’t have to talk to you,” the man blustered, but his heart wasn’t really in it. The boy stayed silent, watching with wary eyes. His gaze lingered longest on Shikaku. _Good instincts_ , Kakashi thought, almost impressed, despite himself.

“No.” Tsunade observed. “You don’t. But I haven’t signed a new extradition treaty with the Godaime Mizukage yet.”

“That would set a dangerous precedent,” the sensor said, surprising Kakashi. He didn’t even appear startled that Tsunade had known which village they were from. Shikaku raised an eyebrow.

“So it would,” he agreed, his tone deceptively mild. “Unless the Hokage thought that lenience in this regard would declare open season on Konoha’s shinobi in their own homes.” The sensor blanched. He clearly had some idea of what was at stake here.

“So,” Tsunade said, “let’s try this again. Why were you sent?” They glanced at each other, and the boy nodded slightly. Then he spoke.

“We had a message to convey,” he said. “If our teammate hadn’t been attacked, we would have left without event.” Tsunade made a skeptical face.

“Robbery isn’t an event?” 

The boy just shrugged, apparently willing to try to wait this out. The man would break first, Kakashi thought, but he almost certainly knew less.

“And the message?”

“A personal message from the Mizukage,” the boy responded. “We didn’t ask.” The hell of it was, he really might not have. The hypnosis they were under might have been able to implant a message unknown to the bearers. But Kakashi doubted it was that easy. A moment later, Shikaku stepped in.

“You mean to say you didn’t have any idea why you bribed a feudal lord, bribed and sweet-talked your way into a merchant train and went looking for one Konoha shinobi in particular? Please. You were looking for a descendant of the Meigo clan.”

“How did you —“ the sensor motioned sharply at his companion, but it was too late. Shikaku smiled. It wasn’t a friendly expression.

“Why don’t we talk about how many international treaties you violated,” he said. “Unless you’d rather discuss why your informants fed you faulty information?” Neither of them responded.

Kakashi leaned back against the wall and pulled out his book as Shikaku and Inoichi pulled the two Mist nin apart. With the information they had extracted from Mito, they were able to get surprisingly far, including the names of two other merchants who had helped them on their way into the train and into Konoha. Kakashi had narrowed the list of potential informants down to about two dozen by the time they paused; he was pretty sure Shikaku had a still shorter list. After a while, at a nod from Tsunade, Kakashi slipped out of the room and wandered toward the warehouse district.

When he got there this time, the warehouse in question was abuzz with activity. Kakashi paused outside, and just watched for a moment, before pulling a man aside.

“Where’s Yuto?” The man looked at him.

“The boss?” Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and the man flushed. “All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “He should be upstairs. I don’t know.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi said dryly, and headed into the warehouse.

The boss was in his office upstairs, and looked distinctly unhappy when Kakashi stepped into the formerly locked room. The three men with him looked appalled, and Kakashi allowed himself to grin at the expressions on their faces. He shut the door and leaned against it, trapping them in the room with him; there were no windows.

“So, gentlemen,” he said, inspecting his fingernails. “It seems we have a little problem.” They looked at each other, and then three of them fell all over themselves trying to protest that they hadn’t known, they were sorry and it was all someone else, but they’d never do it again. Yuto watched them with a disgusted expression on his face.

Kakashi cut them off with a sharp gesture, and they fell back.

“Now,” he said, “I understand why these Mist shinobi bribed you.” There was a cursory complaint by one of them about “bribe” being a very strong word, but he subsided when Kakashi looked directly at him. “And I understand why you left three of your staff behind.” Fewer people meant bigger profits for the rest of them, for one thing. They looked unhappy, except for Yuto, who looked impatient, as if he were waiting in line for a bathroom, or a table at a restaurant. “And I know that several of your sponsors gave tacit approval to this little venture of yours,” Kakashi continued, and made eye contact with Yuto, who paled slightly. “Your friends have been very forthcoming in that regard.” Interesting that it was information about the lords that made him blanch, Kakashi thought, and filed it away for future reference.

“What I don’t understand,” he said, pulling out a kunai and spinning it loosely in one hand, “is how, exactly, you thought you would get away with it.”

“You can’t,” one of them said. “The daimyo won’t allow the Hokage to exact vigilante justice on people she dislikes!”

“How fortunate for him,” Kakashi said. “But I never said I’m here from the Hokage, did I?” The man who’d spoken took a step back, at that, running into the piled crates Yuto was using as a makeshift desk. “In fact,” Kakashi said, “I never did say why I was here, did I?” He took a half-step forward, enough to menace without leaving the door open behind him. 

“It just so happens,” he said quietly, “that the shinobi your new friends chose to harrass is a friend of mine.”

“But,“ one of them said, “he’s just an Acad—“

“Shut up!” another hissed, and Kakashi smiled again, allowing it to show in his eye.

“So you knew who their target was,” he said. “That makes everything much easier.” Yuto was standing now, watching Kakashi warily. Kakashi looked at the four of them, weighing words and actions. He put his hands down at his sides, and they relaxed slightly.

“We didn’t—“ one of them started to say.

Then Kakashi’s hands snapped out, and there were four exclamations of shock. The three men before the desk bore identical gashes along their left cheeks, deep enough to leave a faint scar, slight enough not to cause serious damage. Yuto bore two such gashes, but instead of clapping his hands to his cheeks to staunch the bleeding, his hands were patting furiously at the top of his head. His toupee hung from a kunai embedded in the wall behind him. It looked small and pathetic hanging there, and Yuto looked like he was torn between fury and acute embarrassment.

“Now,” Kakashi said, and the menace in his voice was obvious, as was the anger in his chakra. “I want to be very clear on this. The Hokage may not be able to take action against you, but _I don’t care if the daimyo doesn’t like me_.” One of them made a gulping noise, which Kakashi ignored.

“And I am very, very attached to this village and all of its shinobi.” He glanced at the five shuriken embedded in the walls and floor of the room. “Have those cleaned and sent back to the Hokage,” he instructed, and met Yuto’s gaze directly. “Keep the kunai. Maybe it will jog your memory, if you’re ever feeling forgetful in the future.” He half expected a threat on his way out, or some kind of jibe, but what he got was dead silence. _Good_ , Kakashi thought, _maybe that will hold longer than a month or two._ He wasn’t going to count on it, but it had been just as necessary as the Hokage’s conversation with the captured Mist shinobi.

—— —— 

On Kakashi’s way back to the center of town, an out-of-breath genin hailed him and handed him a scroll.

“From the Hokage,” she said, hands on her knees and gasping for air. “Where on earth _were_ you?” Kakashi waved at her, and headed for the Hokage Tower, reading on the way.

The group from T&I was there with one more ANBU member visible and Mito, who was gagged. A smoking set of holes in the surface of Tsunade’s desk explained both why she was bound and why Tsunade looked a little bit smug behind her folded hands.

“Kakashi,” she said, without looking at him, “remind me what the punishment is for attacking a Kage in a time of peace?” Kakashi smiled.

“That depends,” he said. “In the Kage’s home village, unprovoked? Death, if you’re lucky.” Mito looked back and forth between the two of them.

 _If you’re not lucky?_ Tsunade might have asked, but she didn’t really need to.

“Now,” Tsunade said, turning to look at Mito again. “You can promise not to try that again, and talk to us, or you can be … convinced not to do that again.” She paused, and glanced at Kakashi. “Ever.”

Kakashi wasn’t entirely certain he could weave a genjutsu strong enoug to keep Mito from ever spitting poison again, but there had been Uchiha whose talents ran towards long-acting, restrictive genjutsu, and they’d occasionally done such things in the past. Given the way Mito paled, she clearly thought him capable of it. She glanced over her shoulder at her companions, one of whom gave her a tiny shrug. She turned around and nodded to Tsunade; when the new ANBU member took the gag out of her mouth she closed her mouth and bit her lips. She looked worried, but Kakashi was grudgingly impressed by how well she hid most of it.

He looked at Tsunade and tipped his head to one side, curious. She motioned to him to stay, so he leaned back against the wall again, hands in his pockets, and watched. Given how often Mito glanced at him, his presence was effective. He watched her companions, who were standing behind her, out of her line of sight. Their faces were largely impassive, but every so often something she said made them wince. Kakashi made note when they did, particularly the boy. If he was correct, the sensor was the head of this 3-man team, despite being the youngest of them.

Inoichi was swift and efficient, and his time on the edges of her mind seemed to have given him almost a second sense for what she would and wouldn’t react to. It seemed a short time to Kakashi before the three captives were led back to their separate cells, each flanked by two guards and one ANBU member. He was dead certain it had felt longer for the three of them.

“Send them off in the morning,” Tsunade said, catching Inoichi’s eye. “Early enough that they can get in almost a full day’s travel.” It would take them four or five days to get home, Kakashi knew, which would be later than expected. It would only be one or two days late, if they’d anticipated a hostage slowing them down, but it would be long enough to worry the Mizukage and her council. Shizune made a face, and Shikaku shifted where he stood. Tsunade’s council would be angry that she’d let the Mist nin go on the fourth day, rather than the fifth, but that wasn’t really his problem. Kakashi sketched a wave at the four of them, and meandered out.

It was nearly dark, to his surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, he headed home.

—— ——

In the morning, Kakashi sat high in one of the trees on the Konoha side of the gate. It was a familiar spot for him, a place he’d sat to watch Team Seven more than once before they’d learned to look for him in the trees. He shook his head and went back to reading until a group of shinobi approached the guard-house. The three Mist nin were unbound, but were clearly uncomfortable under heavy guard. Mito was still biting her lower lip.

“Now,” Tsunade said, flanked by masked, robed ANBU members. “You will give this directly to Terumi Mei.” She handed the boy a scroll, sealed. “If you try to open it,” she added, “you really won’t like the consequences. I’d advise against it.” Her smile was sharp-edged, and the swordsman swallowed, visibly unnerved.

Once they were out of sight and easy chakra-sensing range, Tsunade looked up into the trees.

“Get down here, kid,” she called.

One of her ANBU guards did a double-take when Kakashi hopped down. _Not expecting me?_ he thought _. Or not expecting me to answer to that?_ He nodded at her, hands in his pockets, and looked after the three-person party.

“You think they’ll open it?” he asked. Tsunade shook her head. She seemed almost regretful.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll let them. Come on,” she said, beckoning, “Shizune tells me you haven’t been to see her yet about that contact poison.” _Damn_ , Kakashi thought, but he followed her without protest. To his surprise, they went back to the Hokage Tower, not to the hospital.

“Here,” she said, reaching into one of her desk drawers and pulling out Iruka’s scroll. It was still sealed, still unopened. “Tell Iruka not to worry about it getting around.”

“Wait,” Kakashi said, and he could hear the surprise in his tone. _Calm down_ , he told himself. “You _didn’t_ tell them Iruka’s grandmother is from Uzushiogakure?” Tsuande shook her head. “Then they’ll come for him again,” Kakashi said.

“I know,” she said. “And they’ll violate a very carefully worded treaty in the process.” Kakashi blinked and took a breath to keep his voice from shaking.

“Next time,” he pointed out, “they’ll send someone better.” _Next time_ , he thought, thoughts racing, _Iruka might be home. I might not be in town._ Tsunade looked at him, and something softened in her face.

“Kakashi,” she said, “it’s necessary. We don’t have the ability to deal with it decisively until we’ve signed a new treaty with the Godaime Mizukage. This is the best we can do for now.”

He nodded. It was true: showing too much of their hand now, when they were on uncertain footing with Mist, would indicate weakness, and Konoha couldn’t afford that right now. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Tsunade looked him over.

“Come here,” she said, and he stepped within arm’s reach. She held out hands glowing with chakra, and he let her run them from head to foot in a quick, diagnostic jutsu. She frowned, did it again, and then looked at him curiously.

“It’s not in your system anymore,” she said. “How did you manage that?”

“Minimal exposure,” Kakashi replied. “It’s combustible, and rinses off easily. And caffeine might make a difference.”

“Come into the hospital tomorrow,” she said, “and have Shizune check you again. And tell her exactly what you did. I don’t think anyone’s had it out of their system this quickly before.”

Kakashi nodded and left, pocketing Iruka’s scroll and heading to the practice fields. If he was lucky, he could find Guy, and get some of this anxiety out of his system.

—— ——

Kakashi sighed as he sank back into a chair and began unwrapping his ankles. Today’s sparring with Guy had taken more out of him than he’d expected. Guy didn’t usually open the third gate unless there was real danger, but it had been good for both of them, even if Kakashi was feeling a bit battered as a result.

There was a hesitant knock at the door, and Kakashi reached to feel who it was. He smiled, and got up to let Iruka in. He’d hoped Iruka would come over in response to the note Kakashi had tucked under his door.

“What a surprise,” he teased, and Iruka flushed. It was still a little bit adorable, Kakashi thought, though he knew Iruka would probably try to deck him if he said so.

“I wanted to apologize,” Iruka said, “for being so rude the other night.” Kakashi shook his head.

“No need,” he said. “It wasn’t any of my business.”

“No,” Iruka agreed, “it wasn’t. But it was your job to ask. So,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d say so.”

“Come in,” Kakashi suggested, stepping back. Iruka came in. After only a moment’s hesitation, he pulled off his flak jacket. Kakashi tipped his head to indicate Iruka should follow. Kakashi sat back down and finished unwrapping his left ankle. Iruka stood for a moment a bit awkwardly before sitting and waiting. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, and Kakashi didn’t rush. Iruka held out his hand for the wrapped bandages, and Kakashi handed them to him without a word.

“Thanks,” Kakashi said, when he was done, shaking the legs of his pants out of the creases they fell into under the wrappings. Iruka shook his head.

“How were the anklebiters today?” Kakashi asked, and grinned beneath the mask when Iruka made a frustrated noise.

“They’re not —“ Kakashi made a skeptical face, and Iruka slumped back against the couch. “Miserable,” Iruka admitted. “Someone’s parent let slip that my apartment was broken into, and I had to try to convince Konohamaru that he and his friends shouldn’t take up permanent guard in front of my door.” He sighed, and Kakashi wondered if he knew how tired he looked.

“Come here,” he offered, gesturing before him. Iruka looked puzzled, but he got up and moved to sit in front of Kakashi. When Kakashi’s hands settled on his shoulders, Iruka leaned into the touch; when Kakashi began to knead gently, Iruka made a soft, pleased sound and relaxed. Kakashi felt the tension drain out of him minute by minute, and eventually let his hands come to rest on Iruka’s shoulders.

“Mmm,” Iruka said, tipping his head back. There was a vague, pleased expression on his face; his eyes were closed. “Thanks.” Giving in to impulse, Kakashi tugged his mask down and bent down to kiss Iruka lightly. Iruka’s eyelids fluttered in surprise, but didn’t open. He hummed again, and began to turn around to face Kakashi.

Kakashi was tempted to let Iruka deepen the kiss, to be distracted, but there was a scroll that wasn’t his sitting in one pocket of his vest, and Iruka had to know what had happened. He pulled back hesitantly, and Iruka let him go, hands braced on Kakashi’s knees. He looked relaxed, a little sleepy, and Kakashi wanted to lean in and kiss him again. Instead, he moved to stand up, pulling Iruka up with him.

Iruka watched, curious but unworried until Kakashi handed the scroll back to him. His fingers moved over the unbroken seal, and he looked up and met Kakashi’s eyes. There was a brief silence.

“She didn’t tell them, then,” Iruka concluded, looking to Kakashi for confirmation. It was clear that he understood what that might mean.

“No,” Kakashi said. Iruka took a deep breath. Then he stepped towards the door. Kakashi itched to reach out, hold him here, but he didn’t move. To his surprise, Iruka just tucked the scroll into a vest pocket, and came back to Kakashi.

“So,” he said, reaching out a hand to brush against Kakashi’s cheek, “what did you have in mind for tonight?” Kakashi caught his hand and kissed the palm of it.

“Let’s see,” he said, and Iruka smiled at the heat in his voice.

In the morning, Iruka woke only a short time after Kakashi, his legs tangled in the sheets. His hair was sticking up on one side, and he had pillow-creases on his cheek. Iruka blinked sleepily at Kakashi, and a smile stole across his face; Kakashi felt something warm and possessive curl inside him and he smiled back.

“Good morning,” he said, and leaned in for a kiss.


End file.
